


Going by Faith

by Darkhymns



Category: Death Gate Cycle - Margaret Weis & Tracy Hickman
Genre: Angst, Community: springkink, Drama, Explicit Sexual Content, Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Romance, Slash, Topping from the Bottom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-01
Updated: 2012-06-01
Packaged: 2017-11-06 11:55:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,970
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/418621
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Darkhymns/pseuds/Darkhymns
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Done for springkink. Both Haplo and Alfred are lost within the Labyrinth, and there are things unbalanced between them. But the Wave corrects itself, as always.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Going by Faith

**Author's Note:**

> Originally a PWP that got carried away. A cliche premise, (I'm so sorry) but well, I wrote this for one thing only!
> 
> Contains explicit sex, M/M, and all that good stuff between my two favorite demigods. So turn back if you would not want to read something of this nature. Otherwise, please enjoy.
> 
> Critique is always welcome. :)

Haplo knew the importance of names more than anyone. His own had not been given to him lightly. Patryns were a hard and stoic people, not prone to gentle fancy or musings- the Labyrinth would make no allowances for such things. So his parents engraved his name over his heart, meant for guidance, for a self-fulfilling prophecy. Haplo- single and alone. If he was alone, he would be strong, he would survive and escape the terrors of his home. And he had- even though he was back in this prison once again.

So despite Alfred's denials, he did not believe in mere coincidences.

"My name is Coren," he had said quietly. The Sartan could not meet his eyes, looking away in embarrassment.  _To choose_ , Haplo had guessed.  _Chosen_ , Alfred had confirmed.

"Most Sartan families has…had a boy named Coren. A self-fulfilling prophecy…You see why I never told you." He smiled, small and hurting, remembering. "It's laughable. It doesn't mean anything… It shouldn't have meant anything…"

Until you woke up, Haplo answered silently. Thoughts traveled, from one to the other, unspoken regrets. Chosen to live when others had died, chosen among all the Sartan who had been better, stronger, wiser than he could ever be. Chosen to fix it all by himself, this man who kept tripping over his own two feet.

So he denied it, and became Alfred.

"It is rather funny, in a way…" he said, his voice breaking on the last word.

"I'm not laughing."

Haplo let the name settle on his mind. He accepted it graciously, knowing what the Sartan had done- giving the Patryn a part of himself, a power to hold over him. It was a name he hadn't said in centuries, even to his own people on Chelestra, and here he was, handing it over to the enemy.

"I…hated my name. I  _hated_  it," Alfred was saying, a dam finally releasing, so grateful to let everything go. "I was happy to take the other name and finally forget. But then I met you, and I remembered. Every time you called me Alfred, I heard the name Coren. It frightened me, but it… it also made me happy."

And suddenly Haplo was frightened. A connection even before the terror of Abarrach, before the journey through Death's Gate? Holding power over the man without even knowing about it, and the Sartan allowing it. It made him uncomfortable, yet also flattered him at the same time.

"I know what my name means now," Alfred said, his tone suddenly firm, convinced.

"What are you talking about? It doesn't mean anything- you said it yourself!" But Haplo knew, now trying to deny it himself. Names like these don't come by lightly, from the darkness of the Labyrinth, to the bright world of Arianus, both finally meeting, understanding.

"But it does mean something- to me." And Alfred stood up, shoulders straightening, taller than Haplo could ever recall. "What you said; to choose. I've let other people do the choosing for me, and even when I do take action- I forget. But not anymore."

The black dog walked up to them, tail wagging excitedly. The Sartan bent down to pet its head lightly. Haplo felt his unease slipping away, comforted by the man's words, by his belief.

"I choose to be with you." His decision was made. Alfred was smiling, relaxed, keeping his eyes on the dog. "I promise you that. If you will…"

But he couldn't completely change in a moment. There was the unspoken question, requiring permission of the Patryn to allow him this, the one thing that Alfred could control over himself.

Haplo was about to answer, unsure what words would come out of his mouth. Because control was hard to maintain over one's self, he knew this too well. It was even harder to relinquish control to someone else. But Hugh the Hand had interrupted, pointing toward the trees, to the other Patryns that were coming up the path, weapons in their hands.

"She betrayed us, didn't she?" Hugh side-eyed, showing no surprise.

Haplo nodded, remaining silent. Marit, the mother of his lost child, betraying him. His mind was filled with nothing. He placed a hand against his chest, where the design was hidden beneath his shirt.

Not impossible, he thought, to hate a name.

\---

All they had to do was cross a bridge. It was a narrow bridge to be sure, made of cracked stone, suspended over churning water that was aptly named the River of Anger. It was the only thing in the Labyrinth that the Patryns had created, giving substance to their hatred. The magic of the bridge allowed only one person to cross at a time. Marit, Hugh, and the dog were already on the opposite shore, waiting for Haplo and Alfred. Patryns on both sides of the river watched them grimly. It wasn't far to the city of Patryns- despite how strange it was for nomads to build a city in the first place.

In the distance, there was howling, terrible and hungry. Wolfen coming their way. They had little time.

"It's only a bridge," Haplo said, trying to calm the shaking Sartan.

"It's… not the bridge. It's…" He gestured toward the river, its depth lost in blackness, angrily sloshing against the shores. "I get the feeling that it hates me."

Kari, the leader of the Patryn group, narrowed her eyes at Alfred. Haplo saw her muscles tense, hefting her spear near her. The wolfen's cries were getting closer. He didn't have to imagine what she would do if the Sartan delayed any longer.

"You crossed the Fire Sea." Haplo laid a hand on Alfred's shoulder, knowing the looks of distrust he was getting from his people, brushing them all away. "You can do this."

At this, Alfred's face brightened. Just barely, but it was enough to get him to edge forward. He wrung his hands, swallowing. "I crossed the Fire Sea…"

Haplo advised the man to crawl on his hands and knees, for the Patryn knew just how dangerous Alfred's feet were. He bitterly regretted that the Sartan couldn't use his magic to float across, remembering just how well that went the last time he'd tried it- flying headfirst toward a mountain. With held breaths, everyone watched as Alfred timidly made his way across the river.

"We don't have time for this," Kari hissed. There was the sound of branches crashing through the forest, of leaves crushing underfoot. The wolfen were here, and Alfred had barely made it halfway. A deep-throated growl sounded so close that the Sartan blanched, holding onto the bridge in shock.

Haplo saw several things happening at once; his runes lighting brilliantly, large furry bodies bursting through the trees, Kari raising her spear toward the paralyzed Sartan. He reacted quickly, grabbing the woman's wrist, raising his other hand toward a wolfen that leapt for his throat, electricity shooting from his palm. Kari wrenched her hand away. The monster's body twitched on the ground.

"Don't faint!" Haplo shouted toward Alfred, hoping he would listen. Kari and her group instantly fought against the wolfen, throwing their spears, flinging their magic at the sharp fangs. Haplo was about to cross the bridge, conveniently putting out the knowledge of the bridge's magic. One way or the other, they would all be dead if he didn't do something.

Over the deafening snarls of the wolfen, Haplo didn't hear the flapping wings, was too late to dodge the talons that stuck into his back.

The Labyrinth was sentient, cruel, and fiercely intelligent. It hated the Patryns that dwelled within it, and for some reason, hated the trembling Sartan that had appeared within its domain. Never had Haplo seen the Labyrinth react with such malevolence to someone invoking their spells, never had he imagined it sighing with relief when Alfred had first started to walk back toward the Vortex.

But now the Sartan was distracted, still in shock, easy to kill. Having the Labyrinth send packs of wolfen toward the group was not surprising, but rarely had the prison sent more than one kind of monster at the same time to take part in the slaughter. So the rocs had come- immense in their size, overshadowing the burly wolfen, with encompassing wings and sharply curved beaks. There were several of them, filling the skies, moving so swiftly, faster than anything on land. One attacked Haplo, knocking him flat, while another was heading straight for the huddled Alfred.

Haplo swatted away his attacker, the runes burning flesh, charring the feathers. The monster flew back with a sharp cry, only to have two more join its assault. Beaks reached to peck out his eyes, talons clawed away at his skin, trying to carry him off, as they had done to many unfortunate Patryns before. His magic defense blocked most of their attacks, claws scraping against tough walls of his creation, trailing sparks. His only blessing was that these rocs were still quite small, perhaps even hatchlings (hatchlings the size of a full grown man) and thankfully not the adults that could even rival the dragons in size.

"Alfred!" He called out. A beak grazed the side of his head, marking blood. He took hold of his dagger, runes highlighted on its surface. He swung it in a large arc above his head, the magic forming themselves into a scythe of red light in the air, cutting two of the birds in bloody halves.

He turned around, enough to see Alfred start to lift himself up, staring dumbfounded at the roc that was descending towards him. The dog was on the bridge with him, barking viciously, snapping at the bird's clawed feet before it could get close enough.

Patryns behind him continued to fight, while others on the opposite shore were shooting arrows to aid them. There was still too many- they had to cross the river soon. Haplo was ready to chant a spell to get rid of the bird before Alfred (he could almost swear that the monster was unsure, even frightened, about attacking the Sartan) when a pack of wolfen broke through the Patryn's wall, bounding high over them. Haplo faced them, just in time to watch yellowing fangs dig into his shoulder, to see an assortment of wings flutter around him.

He thought he heard a woman shout his name- maybe Kari, perhaps even Marit, a light tinge of panic underlining her voice. Teeth found their way around the sigla's defense, lodging into places where the flesh was just barely protected. He shoved off one monster only to have another pin him back down. Blood flowed down his arms, claws ripped at his leather vest, at his shirt, at the torn sigil over his heart. He shivered in pain, kept himself from crying out, the chants to the runes falling from his lips uselessly, unraveling.

Then no sound- for a brief moment, for years. As if everything had been sucked out, leaving him in a timeless void. There was movement still, but no longer intense. Colors had been diffused, dried out. Something held him, drowning out the pain in his body. The monsters moved back. All he could hear was his own labored breathing-

And singing.

Someone was singing, low but steady, soft but determined. Graceful magic that reached out to him, keeping the monsters at bay. He tried to turn his head, suddenly knowing, needing to confirm it with his eyes.

Then sound returned, crashing into his head. There was blinding light, reflecting off wondrous green scales. A roar deafened his ears- a dragon's call, vicious and powerful. But it wasn't the same as a Labyrinth dragon, calling for a Patryn's blood, eager for torture. It was protective, angered. Through shaded eyes, he saw a long, graceful neck swoop over him, a reptilian head snapping at the monstrous birds. Golden claws struck out at the wolfen, the creatures yelping in pain.

Everyone else stood back. The Patryns stared open-mouthed, unsure what to do, unbelieving at what they were seeing. It was just as well, for the monsters gave no more thought to them, using all their efforts to bring down the green and gold dragon that had suddenly appeared. A wolfen leaped toward the neck, trying to rip off the scales with its mouth. The dragon shook him off, dark blood trailing down its body. Yet all the while it stood over Haplo like a living shield. Its wings unfurled, making the light even brighter.

But the Labyrinth is intelligent, cruel. Merciless. Because it knew that everything had a weakness.

Some wolfen bounded away from the dragon's forefeet, slipping around the gigantic body, heading straight for Haplo.

He tried to stand, but the wounds had been deeper than he first thought. His body was shaking. And the light, beautiful as it was, was too much. It pierced through his head. His mind called for darkness. He shut his eyes. The ground shook beneath him.

"Coren," he whispered before slipping away. The light- too bright, too bright…

\---

Wind was blowing through his hair, refreshing and pleasant. Haplo didn't want to wake up. He felt warmth around him, felt the tiny wisps of magic hold him steady. As they should be, for he was moving through the air, swiftly, flying over miles and miles of land.

Flying.

Haplo opened his eyes.

His body was weak, lethargic. His cheek was pressed against smoothness. Slowly, he lifted himself up, looking down at the scales beneath him. Their brightness was not as dazzling anymore, their surfaced dimmed by a thick coating of blood.

Haplo dared not move. He didn't have to look around (and wasn't sure if he wanted to) to know that the dragon was carrying him through the skies; he could hear the continual creaking of the great wings, feel the wind buffeting him even more now that he was sitting up. There was the brief recollection of him hanging onto the dragon's claw, of softly whispered thoughts to get away. The wolfen were all dead, but the shrieking rocs would not let up their assault. So Alfred flew off, with Haplo clinging onto his back, leading the monsters away from the group; both their thoughts working in tandem, in chilling familiarity, the need to get far, far away.

A shudder beneath him. The dragon began to descend, his wings held still. Haplo looked back, finding holes in the leather skin. Their escape had not come without a price.

They landed on the ground roughly, Haplo tumbling down the side. He got back up in quick motion, and was surprised to find that any wounds he got from the fight had already healed, the circle of his being restored. It might have been the healing sleep, but he didn't remember invoking it. It wasn't hard to guess that Alfred must have been the one to do so, though he was hard-pressed to pinpoint just when the Sartan found the time during their flight.

Time to heal Haplo but not himself. The fey creature was riddled with wounds, scales pulled out, claw marks against his neck, the wings tattered. Blood painted its flank, yet still Haplo found the dragon amazing the look at, possessing a deadly beauty only heightened by its scars from battle.

The dragon swiveled its great head toward him, breathing heavily. Golden eyes held him, surrounded his very self, as if suddenly aware of the Patryn's presence. It moved a great leg toward him, the nose just slightly touching his arm. And it was, for certain, the same dragon from Chelestra, the one that had saved him from the poisonous maws of the dragon-snakes, the one whose voice he heard in his head, wrapping around him pleasantly, ancient and strong and familiar.

_Are we… far enough?_

Then the dragon stumbled, falling on its stomach.

Whispers still trailing through his head, Haplo rushed forward, trying to think of several ways to close the gaping wounds, of if he even could. Suddenly runes appeared all around the dragon's body, all of them interconnecting with the other, the words to a complicated, marvelous spell that had given Alfred his form. They lit up the forest floor, illuminated the dark trees, draping them in soft blue. Then they slowly began to dissolve, peeling away from him like a blanket, revealing the man that had borrowed the shape.

Alfred was on his knees, hands digging through the dirt- the dragon's claws still raking the ground. Blood was on his clothes.

Haplo took a while to move again. He slowly knelt down next to the man, still feeling the traces of magic in the air, brimming like electricity, tightening his nerves. His hand clasped Alfred's shoulder, opening his mouth to speak.

But the Sartan was faster, gripping the other's hand in his own. He raised his head. He no longer had the dragon's eyes- at least not at first glance. Haplo felt their intensity, and staggered before them.

Alfred croaked, barely audible. "Are you…alright?"

Haplo blinked, then twisted his lips into a frown. Of course the Sartan would give little thought to his own health. "Seeing as I'm not the one with injuries, I should think so."

Alfred smiled tiredly, understanding the Patryn's irritation. He tried to stand, but instantly crumpled. Haplo caught him around his shoulders.

"I'll be okay-"

"If you stay still," Haplo interrupted. "Besides, I believe I at least owe you a healing after what you've done." Gratitude was still hard for the Patryn to express.

"I'm sorry to be of trouble…"

Haplo ignored the Sartan's apologies, carefully seating him back on the ground. He took both of the large hands in his own, opened the circle of his being, closing it around Alfred.

As his magic connected both his mind and body, the circle connected between himself and Alfred. Life flowed from his arm, through Alfred's, through the chest, then back out again; an exchange of blood and memories. Through the magic, Haplo looked through the Sartan's eyes-

_-fear paralyzed his insides, water splashed against his hands, deathly cold, trying to pull him under. There were shouts, beastly howls, high-pitched cries. The dog's barking was right in his ear, rattling his skull. Death was so near, he only wished it would end quickly, please let it end quickly. And then his mind pulled him away, a warning, but- He turned toward Haplo, watching as monsters tore away at him, runes sparking to his defense. The Patryn disappeared underneath grotesque bodies._

_Then a different fear filled him, a fear for Haplo, for the man whom he had given his true name. Words to a spell flowed from his mouth. He could understand it , he could retain it, he knew it. There was power, anger; justified and terrible in its own way. They must not hurt Haplo. They_ _ **cannot.**_ _And Coren was fighting off the monster's attacks, withstanding the Labyrinth's terrible scream_ (at this juncture, Haplo flinched, unsure of what he was hearing -the prison had a voice?- and hands gripped his own back in reassurance)  _and though there were claws trying to rip apart his scales, he flung them away, concern for himself long gone. Then a touch, hands that fell against his side, thoughts flitting to each other. Escape with me, escape, far off, escape-_

"I remember."

Alfred's voice broke the spell. Haplo opened his eyes, unaware that he had closed them before. Their hands stayed locked with each other. The Sartan was staring at him, a wide smile on his face.

Then he realized. Alfred hadn't stammered after shedding away the dragon shape. Not like when he woke up on the beach of Draknor, eyes showing nothing at all as Grundle prattled on about him, about this mild-mannered Sartan killing the Royal One.

"I remember this time." Alfred looked elated; not afraid, not confused. "I was… I was the dragon! Fighting those awful things…" A shudder, but it didn't dim the man's excitement. "But I can remember the spell! I'm sure I could even do it now if I-"

"Wait, wait," Haplo reined the man in, gripping his hands tightly. "Are you saying you still have enough energy to do that  _again?_ "

Alfred blinked, suddenly realizing the meaning of his previous statement. He looked away. "W- well, I suppose I am actually quite tired…"

Serpent Mage, they had called him. Haplo wondered if he was just beginning to see the immense power that title held.

"Just hold off on that for now." He turned his head, looking at their surroundings for the first time. Much of the area was deeply packed, trees lining up with each other, vines and canopy draping across another's branches. Alfred had managed to land in the only open area, which consisted of a small clearing within the midst of the trees, and scraggly bushes dotting the ground.

What passed for daylight in the Labyrinth was already disappearing, the cloudy sky growing dark. Haplo started to feel uneasy. There was truly no good time to travel in the Labyrinth, but night was especially dangerous.

He looked around him again, trying to find the pathway, the one thing in the prison that would lead him and Alfred forward.  _You abandon the path at your peril. You keep to the path at your peril_. But Haplo would have felt extremely comforted if he had been able to see it, if he was at the very least given a choice to walk on it.

The landscape before him was covered by the trees. He couldn't even calculate the distance.

"Alfred, how far did you take us?"

The Sartan was silent, then looked off to the side, furrowing his brow. "I'm… I'm not entirely sure. Those monsters kept following me for almost an hour, and I was trying to lose them."

By veering off in different directions, by circling around trees and mountains. Haplo, remembering through Alfred's eyes, could see it. The rocs had somehow increased in number, as if pulling themselves out of the clouds. They tore holes in his wings, but he fought back with a roar. A mess of colors and adrenaline. Then silence, none of it calm, not until the moments had passed, until the clearing was in sight.

"Did you finish off all those monsters?"

Alfred looked chagrined. "Not… not all."

The Labyrinth was immense. It took generations of Patryns to fight their way through, parents leaving their children this legacy of suffering. The prison branched out in several directions, always. One of many tests, to see if the Patryn would make the right choice and survive.

Whatever direction they were in was the wrong one. Far off course, far off from whatever strange city his people were taking him into.

"I just wanted to leave."

Alfred's voice was low, shaking. He was suddenly very pale, even though his wounds were gone. The knowledge of their predicament, the sound of the wind blowing harshly against the vines, was bearing down on him. The dragon was becoming harder to recall.

Haplo was helping him to his feet, eyes still on the trees that towered over them. The wind grew stronger, colder. "We need to rest somewhere first. Then we can figure out what to do next."

The Sartan let himself be carried, planting his own feet before him autonomously. His eyes kept flicking over to Haplo. He didn't trip over any unseen roots or dips in the ground for once.

"I thought it would be okay."

"What?" Haplo turned. They had come upon an opening of a gigantic tree, much, much bigger than its nearby kin. The bottom of it had been upturned, revealing a shelter in the ground, the tree's base as its ceiling. Thick roots straggled around the opening, heavy enough to make Haplo exert some energy in pushing them away. He had been wondering just what kind of creature could have pulled the tree from the hard packed soil- mentally going over categories of large monsters to do just the job- until Alfred caught his attention.

"I mean, well… I felt like we shouldn't stay. Not any longer. A- and they wouldn't stop going after you."

"I know," Haplo replied, remembering very well the wolfen's fangs, the roc's talons. "So you took me and… what about the others?"

"I don't know, but I'm quite sure I led all the monsters off them." Then he winced. "I… I left the dog with them. I'm sorry, there was so much going on-"

"Don't worry. The dog can take care of itself."

Alfred was able to stand on his legs, unaided. Meanwhile, Haplo searched the little shelter under the tree, scanning for any other creatures that might live there. It was deserted, with hardly any signs of insects scurrying around. It looked cleared out, the walls and floor unnaturally smooth. Someone must have made this and if so, when were they coming back? The Patryn couldn't get rid of the cold feeling in his stomach. He kept glancing down at his tattoos, dark on his skin.

"And you really have no idea what direction you went?"

"N-no… I told you. I just had this… urge to get away."

Alfred was staring at him, his hands held close to his chest, shivering from the forest's chill. There was something else unspoken there, about thoughts shared in the skies. Haplo kept his face averted.

"So you got us lost." Too blunt. He didn't have to see to know Alfred wilted at the words, and instantly regretted it.

But still- lost in the Labyrinth. And night was coming.

"Get in here. It won't be safe out there for long." He almost laughed. Since when was it ever safe?

"Wait a moment," Alfred protested. "I still think I can take us back. I can turn back into the dragon."

"Sartan, you look like you're about to fall over, let alone transform into a beast the size of my dragonship." Which must still be in pieces in Chelestra's waters, he thought bitterly.

"But I'm sure I could do it, if you'll just allow me-"

A sharp, splintering sound, echoing through the trees- of tough bark being crushed.

Haplo instantly grabbed the Sartan's arm, dragging him into the shelter. Alfred nearly hit his head against roots. He gasped sharply as he fell to his knees.

"Stay quiet!" Haplo ordered, moving them to the far side. His runes were lit up fiercely.

There was a rumble, moving through the earth, and heavy breathing that was like the bellows to a furnace. A low voice was calling out for prey, words mixed in with the beastly growls. By Alfred's expression, Haplo knew the Sartan was just starting to recognize it. But he knew it for himself with certainty, and wished he was wrong.

A dark shadow covered them, blocking the shelter's opening. The beast was just outside. There was the brief sounds of crackling, of flames churning in the belly.

Alfred was holding onto his wrist tightly. "I- I thought that there was nothing here. I searched-"

Haplo clapped a hand over the man's mouth, glaring at him. Under his breath, he whispered the runes, using the magic to cloak both him and Alfred's scent around the tree. Too bad he couldn't get rid of their traces in the clearing.

Labyrinth dragons were the most feared out of all the terrible monsters that roamed the prison. They delighted in torture, 'collecting' unlucky Patryns that they come across, dragging out their suffering for days or even weeks at a time. They were closest to understanding the Labyrinth's own sentience- obedient but intelligent minions that followed the orders of their superior.

Haplo knew the Labyrinth had called it. It was likely that his spell was useless, for the dragon could already know they were hiding at this very spot. Even so, he called on the possibility for him and Alfred to blend in with their surroundings, for the tree just like all the others. They could never be completely invisible, and if the dragon so much as peered underneath the tree, they would be spotted instantly. Still, there was a small chance, and he was holding on to it desperately.

He could hear it shift toward the clearing, spotting Alfred's claw marks that upturned the ground. It was calculating- waiting for any movement, any sound.

Alfred was eerily still, his mouth still covered by Haplo's hand. Both stayed rooted on the floor, waiting for anything, dreading it all the same.

_I should've brought us farther._

Haplo blinked, glancing at the Sartan. Alfred had his eyes closed, as if trying to shut out the moment. It was a wonder he hadn't fainted just yet.

Words moving through his head. They were not his own.

_I thought this place would be enough._

There was the rigid creaking of leather; the dragon stretching out its wings.

Haplo closed his eyes.

_Because I asked you to. Right?_

He felt Alfred shift, moving toward him just a little closer. Hesitance, but it was crumbling away.

_I wasn't sure if it was your wish or… or my own._

Haplo couldn't say he was surprised they could talk like this. An exchange of souls, of minds, of turning points within their lives. All in unison, interchangeable.

_It was. I needed to breathe after what happened._ Haplo couldn't suppress the image of Marit on the opposite shore, pointedly looking everywhere but at him.  _I didn't want to stay._

So much easier to say, to relieve all the things that had weighed him down. The shadow was clearing, the shaking ground getting less intense. His body relaxed. They were part of the tree, part of the landscape. If only they could burrow further into the earth.

He felt Alfred timidly remove the hand from his mouth, keeping his own near Haplo's.  _It is my fault that all of this has happened. I'm sorry._

Haplo smiled, sad and weary. He opened his eyes, already finding Alfred looking back at him.

But what was the point in leaving? Where could they go? He had to stop Xar and the dragon-snakes. He had no intention of abandoning that goal. But Marit. His people, looking on him with suspicion. Always relying on each other to survive, he had now created a rift between them. It suffocated him.

_I'm sorry._  Alfred repeated again, unsure, but genuine. Images of the Sartan of Chelestra, a beautiful people that he could never be a part of, Orla lying in her tomb, Hugh the Hand looking at him with both anger and desperation, begging to be freed. Alfred had needed to breathe too.

The ground trembled, nearly knocking them over flat. There was a strong huff, of flames reaching out to lick the trees- but not on their side. Haplo thought about using his magic to see into the clearing, but dared not, for the dragon could sense such a spell if it was directed at it. There was the sound of flapping, the large wings moving through the air. A cry cut through the air, growing distant, subdued.

Both men didn't move, too afraid to break the sudden silence. Haplo glanced at his runes, slowly dimming, until their light had all but disappeared.

Alfred was babbling. "It left? I thought for sure it would find us!" Then instantly shut his mouth, his eyes darting all around him, suddenly thinking that the silence might just be a trick.

But it was true, strange as it seemed. The dragon was gone.

\---

Night in the Labyrinth was never calm. All it did was remind the Patryns of the chill, of the creatures lurking in its shadows, of those who had been ambushed in the darkness. It was always best to set up camp, waiting until the scraggly sunlight broke through again before one continued onward.

Haplo and Alfred were lucky in finding any kind of shelter- and one that was partly underground. The Patryn had traced some runes around the perimeter; a kind of security system that would alert him to any predators, as well as stopping them momentarily. He didn't move too far from the tree, his eyes continually flicking toward the skies. The dragon had made no effort in concealing its presence. The ground was ravaged, littered with small chasms. The trees on the other side were slightly charred black. It was a wonder the rest of the forest hadn't been consumed in a blaze.

Alfred stayed huddled in the darkness. Haplo had said it was risky to make a campfire. They didn't have the comfort of being near a supposed fortified city like their previous group did.

"Would it be alright if I created some blankets?" Alfred asked when the Patryn came back.

Haplo shrugged. "Knock yourself out."

Alfred did his conjuration spell quickly enough, the blankets falling across his arms. He tried setting up a bed for himself, but kept wrinkling the cloth, and succeeding in getting more dirt on it when he was trying to brush it off.

Haplo came to his rescue, smoothing out the blanket with perfection, at least compared to the Sartan.

"You can fight off monsters while carrying me for dozens of miles, all in dragon-shape, but you can't tame a single blanket."

Alfred flushed at the comment, but a smile tugged at his lips. "I don't really understand it myself. I always seem to make things more difficult."

Alfred was kneeling, his shoulders hunched, his clothes smudged from the dirt. He had cleaned the blood off of them.

He always looked so helpless, so ineffectual to be of any use. Haplo had never given him much thought at their first meeting, yet this was the man who had already suspected of his Patryn heritage, who had somehow been able to put him to sleep and discover the secret behind the then-bandaged hands.

Would it have been any surprise if the Serpent Mage fought off the dragon? Even with his exhaustion? Yet the Labyrinth had sent it, then taken it away.

"You really don't give yourself much credit, Coren."

Alfred stared. He said nothing. The echo of his name floated around them both. It had been decades, centuries, since the Sartan had ever heard it come out of another's mouth.

Haplo laughed softly. "But then, I haven't much either."

To anyone besides Lord Xar, now working with the dragon-snakes. Certainly not to the mensch, beings so inferior to him, so easy to control- not to the children of Chelestra, to Grundle who had always suspected, to Devon whom he had cut out of the vines, to Alake who had died in his arms. And not to the Sartan who had taken a dragon's wings and shielded him from the Royal One's hunger.

An integrity that he did not possess. And he thought he could stop Xar.

"Haplo, wait, stop." Hands clasped his shoulders, bringing him out of his thoughts. He blinked. The images faded from view.

"I wouldn't have been able to do anything if it weren't for you," Alfred said, suddenly looking stern. "I'd still be in the Vortex, hiding…"  _Ready to die_ , came his own thoughts. Orla laid out in the crystal coffin, an empty one placed right next to her. "And even if we don't survive this, I'm grateful to you… I want you to know that."

Haplo smirked. "Grateful that I dragged you out into this deathtrap?"

"You said you needed me."

"I did. I still do." A pause. "I'm glad you're still with me."

Alfred slowly let go of his shoulders, suddenly overcome. "Of course I am."  _I choose to be with you._

Haplo kept silent, eyes staring at the ground, at the bits of rock crushed into the soil. To choose, taking control of one's own self was frightening for Alfred, to give it away was frightening for himself. Even if the Sartan was protection incarnate.

"You know, you're the only one so far that hasn't tried to kill me yet?"

Alfred stuttered, unsure how to take the strange compliment. "I- well, that can't be true. No, wait, what I mean is t-that I would never do so and I'm s-sure the others-"

But the Patryn had already moved in, taking Alfred's mouth hostage, pushing him against the dirt wall. The other made a strangling sound in the back of his throat, his body stiff, his eyes wide.

Haplo gripped his arms tightly, keeping Alfred near, needing him to be. Because he knew the man would faint, or fall, or try to pull away. But out of all these times, Haplo wanted him to stay, wanted to have a semblance of power like he used to, before the dragon-snakes and their poison, before Marit's distance, before a young girl had died because of his incompetence. He needed to have the Sartan's mouth, fitting against his more closely, to be warm and inviting and-

And Alfred leaned into him, kissing him back with just as much force. A low moan, hands clutching his shoulders, allowing Haplo to choose this path for them.

It wouldn't be like the Sartan though without at least some kind of protest. "Ha- Haplo, wait- Are you sure-?"

"Just don't faint," Haplo ordered, pressing their bodies together, his clothing already feeling much too constricting. Hands grabbed the Sartan's wrists, pinning them against the wall. A need for emphasis that he was doing this, that to denying him was not an option.

But Alfred was receptive to his touches. He didn't shy away from the kisses that became longer, deeper, warmer. A tongue slid through his mouth and he embraced it with his own.

Both were seated on the ground, Haplo moving over Alfred, feeling the coarse material of his own clothes as they shifted against each other. He kissed his neck, the Sartan gasping, making new sounds, soft and whispering against his ear. A plea for something slow, but the night was cold, and there were always hungry monsters lurking through the trees. Haplo needed relief, to vent out his own failings against the one person who could accept it.

He pushed Alfred to the ground a little roughly. His hands clutched around the other's waist, pulling it upward. A hardness, familiar, moving in time with his own.

"Haplo, this is- this is too much…"

The Patryn didn't reply. The heat was tightening around his stomach, stretching him. He undid his pants quickly, his erection jutting out. He was already working on Alfred's own, despite the other man's repeated efforts to slow him down. But they were still only words, attached to images of their closeness, floating through both their heads. Alfred laid back, shivering once their naked members touched, looking very willing for it all to continue.

He kissed Alfred hard, grinding his hips, his body melting against the friction. Alfred's own hands were on his bare waist, keeping to the rhythm. He kept trying to catch Haplo's eyes, but the Patryn was already intent on getting rid of the rest of his clothes, his leather vest and shirt already falling to the side.

_This is why we left,_  came a strange thought, in a voice that wasn't his own. He ignored it, pushed it away.

His fingers slid under Alfred's velvet coat, even more tattered than it usually was, and went to work on its removal. Skin was what he needed, no matter the dirt around him, and their movements provided enough heat for the night's brisk air. After he peeled off the last bit of clothing from Alfred's frame, he didn't notice how the Sartan was still, not until a palm rested against his chest, pressing his heart-rune.

_Haplo._  Again the thought. He looked down, Alfred's eyes slipping through him.

His own name. It was different than speaking it aloud. A private design etched onto his skin, like a private song sung behind closed doors.

Alfred was looking at it, his eyes memorizing its details, unique to every other rune on his body that had sprung out from it, to all the designs etched on his back, that twined around his arms and legs. Haplo was frightened, but not because his own true name was revealed. He knew very well of the scar that slashed across the sigil. A magic that had come close to unraveling, and still could at anytime.

Alfred was about to talk. Why did he insist on doing so?  _During this?_

"Not now," Haplo whispered, kissing him again. The hand stayed on his chest, gentle in its touch.

"But I just-" Alfred tried to say, only to have it swallowed away. His body moved, the heat growing intense between them. He arched his back, gasping for air.

Haplo grasped both their erections, wetness trailing down his hand. Alfred moaned, his other hand slipping around Haplo's shoulder. Certainly this was something they both wanted, going by the Sartan's sounds, on how his body kept moving. The Patryn couldn't understand why there was hesitance. His hand traveled up and down, thumb sliding over their tips, and already the end was in sight for him. He had intended for this to be quick the moment their lips touched. There was risk in prolonging this, more than it needed to be.

He already moved on toward preparation. His hand slid around Alfred's back, his fingers wet from them both, and then, softly, moved through tightness.

Alfred stiffened. His fingers curled, leaving Haplo's chest.

"You're… rushing through this."

Haplo lightly bit his neck, thrusting his fingers, easing, coaxing. "Do you want this or not?" he asked, slightly annoyed. Can't the man just give him a straight answer?

Alfred took his time before speaking again. Haplo kept to his movements, opening the Sartan, all the while watching. He was grateful for the brief silence- and very brief it was.

"This can't end so soon," Alfred finally said, shivering.

So he wanted something sentimental, romantic even. But such things couldn't exist here.

"Too dangerous. This needs to be fast," Haplo breathed. And he meant it. It was not the first time he had found pleasure within the Labyrinth- all of it done for relief from the terror, to get away before something struck. This was no different.

Minutes passed by, the space filled with their panting breaths, their heat. He then started to stroke his own length, eager for the tightness he would be in until Alfred  _(Alfred, why do you insist?)_  cut through his head, his heart, his thoughts.

"You're afraid."

The hand laid against his chest, not quite at the heart-rune, but still near.

He was so close. His head was filling up with doubt and regret again. If he could just reach the end, just expel it all away in this one moment.

Haplo kept his voice steady. "I need to be done."

"No." Alfred shook his head.

The chill went through his bones, settled inside his ribs. "What do you mean, Alfred?"

A finger traced the sigil, softly, almost reverent. Haplo couldn't hold back a shudder, creating a whole new different feeling. It went beyond his flesh, his blood, toward the intangible.

"What… are you doing?" he asked. His voice cracked.

Alfred's words enveloped him in complete softness. No one could be this sincere. "You can let go, Haplo. It's…it's okay. I promise."

The Sartan leaned forward, pressing his lips against the broken heart-rune. A light kiss, chaste and kind and genuine.

And it was the gentleness that Alfred wielded so skillfully that made Haplo shudder, the pleasantness overtaking his limbs. The heart-rune was the most delicate thing about him, and here was the Sartan, planting kisses over it, flicking out a tongue over the ink. A process, healing him through.

He gripped his own erection tightly, tensing his muscles. His other hand clutched Alfred's shoulder. "You need to stop, I-" he swallowed, already drowning. "Please, stop this, please."

But Alfred continued, his eyes closed. His own arms encircled Haplo's back, keeping him on top. All the while, he kissed the sigil, tasting its years, the inherent nature of it. And the Patryn could do nothing. He was reduced to a shivering mess.

_This is why we left,_  came the thought again. Not his voice, but he knew. Alfred's hold was soft and warm, the images a light hue, of bright wings cutting through the sky.

"Stop it…" Haplo bent his head down. He needed a moment to breathe, but the Sartan's tongue was traveling down the pathways of ink, re-tracing them, memorizing, devouring.

_You were hurting inside._ Alfred's thought, wrapping around Haplo's head.  _So I took you away._

"Coren…" Haplo whispered. He felt Alfred shudder underneath him at the sound of his name, his teeth lightly grazing against the scar. The Patryn nearly cried out. This was painful, wonderful, impossible. He rode on the waves, his chest vulnerable to Alfred's mouth, his member throbbing. He couldn't stop pleading.

Haplo had only begged once throughout his life; for forgiveness from his lord, his second father. Never had he felt such intense shame when Xar had spoken to him that day. The torture that followed had been relieving. Haplo believed he had been cleansed of the Sartan's corruption then, that Alfred's influence over him had been completely banished. The burning ache of his heart-rune, torn, ill-repaired, was a reminder of what he had overcome. He had welcomed its pain.

Then Sang-drax had reopened it, and none of that mattered. Broken and weak was all he had felt.

And now he couldn't stop the words, moving free from his throat, past his tongue, to the air that was continually brimming with traces of terror, of faint -very faint- hope. All of them were pleas for Alfred to stop, for  _mercy_ , of all things. But the Sartan's tongue continually traced the sigil, slowly, taking great care in its design. Magic coursed through the ink, responding from the Serpent Mage whose own power just barely rose to the surface. The affection, the closeness, the sheer amount of great care that Alfred gave, hurt Haplo's chest more than anything.

The Patryn was panting, hands gripping the other's shoulders. This was supposed to have been quick. He needed to get away -if he could just catch his breath- to remind the Sartan of their situation, that they simply didn't have time for something so agonizingly slow. But all he could manage was strangled moan, a barely uttered word. "Stop…"

"It's okay," Alfred kept repeating, reassuring. "It's okay…"

Vulnerable, open to the Sartan's touches, under the enemy's control. This was treason in its lowest form. It betrayed generations of hatred born and nurtured through years of suffering. But he thought back to Chelestra, to when Alfred told him of other Sartan that had also been sent to the Labyrinth. Did his ancestors slaughtered those that came? Or did they work together, surviving? The prison demanded blood, offering no comfort. Where else could they find such a thing except in each other?

Besides, enemies didn't hold each other like, didn't take hold of the most sacred of the other's being, cradling it like the fragile thing it was. Haplo was vulnerable, secure in Alfred's arms.

It was relieving.

"Coren, Coren," he called out. He felt a hand take hold of his chin, followed by a deep kiss. He moaned his gratitude, the Sartan sucking on his tongue, giving it to him willingly. There were wet sounds, setting his heart beating frantically. "I can barely…"

"Shh…" Alfred grasped onto Haplo's erection, his fingers wrapping around its girth delicately. He began to stroke it, moving easily on the slick surface.

The Patryn groaned, his cheeks flushed. Alfred was kissing his chest, engulfing his heart-rune once again. His hand never stopped its movement. His tongue swiped across the scar. It winded Haplo up, craning his back until all the heat pooled between his legs. It was too much for him to handle, too much for him to even comprehend. He came fast and hard, barely getting enough air.

Alfred kept him near. His hand was soon covered in white, his fingers idly rubbing Haplo's flesh.

"It keeps…" Haplo began, but kept panting into Alfred's shoulder. His mind was still full. The darkness hadn't lifted. His scar throbbed, more pleasant than painful.

Alfred hadn't let go of the Patryn's shaft. "You're still hard." He didn't sound surprised.

"I can't take anymore of this, I can't…" Haplo's body was covered in sweat. The warmth was suffocating.

"Hush, it's alright," Alfred's voice was so reassuring. He kissed Haplo's forehead, his other hand curling in his dark hair. "I told you, this can't end soon. Not when there's so much here."

His hand settled against Haplo's chest that was heaving and hot to the touch.

"But it's not safe… to keep going," Haplo argued.

"Nothing will happen to us here. At least, I think so…" Alfred gave a tiny smile.

"You  _think?_ " If the Patryn weren't so overwhelmed, he would have laughed.

Alfred pulled him into a kiss, putting off any more protests. Haplo flowed into it, feeling their members rest against each other. Moans slipped out of his throat, images of shadows plaguing them.

Then Alfred shifted his body, their hips meeting. He held the man's still hard shaft, guiding it down.

Haplo scrambled for a better position, already eager. Alfred restrained him easily enough.

"Slow, I told you." He smirked. "More for me this time instead of you."

Haplo's limbs moved with Alfred's hands, with his words, his reassurances. He let himself be carried away without much resistance. Relinquishing control to another.

He slowly entered the Sartan, gasping at the tightness, the incredible warmth. He felt Alfred shudder, breathing against his neck.

"You also…wanted to leave, didn't you?" Alfred was whispering, unwinding himself. He lifted his hips, angled his body. A repeat conversation, but aloud this time. "You wanted to leave with me."

Haplo kept sliding in and out, opening, slowly burying himself up to the hilt. "With you…but I didn't…expect…"

"Are you regretting this?" Alfed asked with some fear.

"No…" His thrusts went deeper, bringing out a hiss. "I need to move faster."

"Not yet…" Alfred had his eyes shut. "Only when I tell you."

He lifted his hips higher just then, his breath coming quicker. The shift in angle made all the difference to the Patryn. He gasped, fingers digging into Alfred's side. His thrusts stuttered.

"You're gonna make me beg again, aren't you?" he asked, his mouth pressed against Alfred's cheek.

"Take your time." The Sartan's body was also shaking, gasping every so often. "You need to."

Haplo had no choice but to follow, his thrusts slowly starting to even themselves out. Slick sounds echoed in his ears. Walls clenched around him. Pleasure suffused his blood to the point of pain.

But he held back his voice, focusing on his breath, on Alfred's voice. For the Sartan kept whispering, guiding him, climbing with him to the top. The doubt, the self-degradation, the frustration all fell away. He unconsciously brought Alfred's hand up against his heart-rune, palm pressing into it, completely engulfed in this comfort. Just movement, repeating, relaxing.

"You can…go fast now." The words came through in a haze. He didn't react right away, still panting and shaking. Alfred whispered again, slowly bucking his hips up.

It seemed to be enough. Haplo groaned, moving his hips, heat tightening around his member so well. The friction grew intense, the cold already forgotten.

And there was Alfred's hands, his words. He couldn't understand them anymore, just the brightness flowering inside his head. He bent down for a kiss, both of them moaning loudly, muffled against the other.

_It's alright to let go._

With skin hitting each other, with hardness pressing into his stomach, Haplo lost sight of their shelter. All he knew was the warmth and gentleness of another, of arms cradling his body, as they had his soul- like on Abarrach, like in the Vortex. And he knew the Sartan would always give him that protection. Perhaps giving was all he knew. He had given Haplo a place to rest, to let someone take hold of the reins.

So Haplo did. He surrendered himself completely, following Alfred's directions, moving faster when he needed to, then harder, then slower, longer, deeper. His body came near exhaustion, his sounds of pleasure unrestrained. To be so loud in the Labyrinth should have been suicide, but Alfred had been right; it was safe for now.

Hands took over his limbs, a voice calmed his head. A voice that was humming, low in pitch, with a slight treble. The hand against his chest caressed the skin. The heart-rune gave off a faint glow, hearing the call of another familiar entity, of magic that had emerged from the same source.

_I need you, Coren._

Haplo came then. He groaned, shooting out warmth in intervals. He came harder than he could ever recall, for it took away his body, reducing it to a memory. Lips mashed against his own. He had grabbed Alfred's erection, wanting the Sartan to come with him, but wetness already splashed against his stomach, marring his tattoos. The body beneath him grasped him tightly, and he curled around in response.

The Patryn would have tried to say something- only inane things, barely comprehensible- of paralyzed limbs, of choking heat, of the Sartan's mouth, the taste so sweet in that moment of climax. Movement, light, and a picture of a tall man, holding him up, of white cloth that enveloped them both. The wave of magic beneath him fluttered, rose, then dove back down again.

He remained silent, taking deep breaths, his face nestled in Alfred's neck. The Sartan already knew.

It was enough.

\---

Alfred's knowledge of the Labyrinth was limited. Before his banishment, all that he had known he had gleaned from the Sartan's books; a rehabilitation center for the broken, a learning tool for those that had strayed down their path. It was to have been like a game, a hard game, and nothing more.

And then he obtained Haplo's memories. They were images soaked in shadows and exhaustion, of adrenaline surging through the body, of blood on the ground. The creation of the Labyrinth took the deepest fears of the Sartan and made them manifest. No longer a game, but a fight for survival. No one could evade the Labyrinth's mission for everyone to be fixed, to be redeemed of their dark ways.

But even with all that, Alfred had not been aware of the very real sentience of the prison until today. It was only because of his power -or Coren's power, to be more precise- did he finally understand. As the dragon, he fought back against the monsters, hearing an indecipherable voice in his head, not male or female, yet exceedingly familiar. It spoke with the runes, with pictures, with the fear and cruelty of its long years.

_**Where can you and your friend run, Serpent Mage?** _

It goaded him on. A challenge. And still he tried, Haplo gripping onto his scales, dodging the rocs that swerved around his flying body. It had trailed behind him, always there, always watching, always waiting for the very next opportunity to get rid of its Sartan descendant.

He was not entirely sure what had made it change its mind.

The sun had been up for the past three hours, just barely slipping through the clouds. He worked out the kinks in his back, moving to a sitting position. Haplo was laying next to him, fast asleep. His face was calm and peaceful, much more so than he had ever been, even awake. Alfred watched him, smiling, then brushed a lock of brown hair that had fallen over his eyes.

Both of them were clothed. They had stayed up much of the night, simply holding each other, riding on the waves of comfort. Alfred wasn't sure if he had slept at all. He didn't even feel tired.

Serpent Mage. Coren. Chosen. To choose. All of those were his own now. It was a change… unless it had always been there, making it more of an unveiling. He had never felt so whole (at least he assumed he was, mostly), not until Haplo needed help that he didn't know how to ask for.

So Alfred was aware of the Labyrinth's eyes. It moved through the roots of the tree, through the hard-packed dirt of the ground. Haplo had suspected this shelter- much too convenient, much too clean and deserted. And Alfred was beginning to know why.

They had been expected.

_**Did you enjoy yourselves?** _

The voice echoed through his head. It staggered him, but he remained seated where he was.

_What do you want?_  he asked. His inner voice was firm, steady, nearly unrecognizable from the befuddled Sartan's usual tone. A hint of danger underlined it, something the Labyrinth picked up immediately.

_**For you to leave. It has been long enough. And you have already fulfilled your wants.** _

His hand lay idle by Haplo's head. He remembered back to when they first stumbled upon here. It had been a trap- the dragon lying in wait for them. They were going to die-

_You could have killed us._

The Labyrinth, perched on his mind like a bird of prey, said nothing. But he sensed the curiosity, voyeuristic in nature. It had not been the first time people have laid with another in its domain. But a Serpent Mage with a Patryn. That was quite different. So it had anticipated, waited.

_**I've allowed you this.** _

Alfred clenched his fists.  _You've allowed us nothing. Not for anyone. Not for him._

Hesitance. A spark of anger that dimmed. Never dying out completely.

_**You must leave. Will you do that?** _

Alfred was suddenly very tempted to counter it again. The spell came to mind. His energy was full. He could fight a horde of other dragons if he wanted to. But he calmed instantly, a little mortified at his recklessness.

But the Labyrinth's words meant nothing to him.

_You should know what my answer is. I choose to be with him._  A reveal of his name, his intentions, all within the maze of death. But the twisted creation had no power over him, and not over Haplo.

The Labyrinth didn't have a face, didn't have lips, or eyes, or a nose. But even so, he swore that it smiled.

_**You must live with the consequences then.**_  Then it was gone from his head, as much as it would ever be, leaving him to catch his breath.

The prison -at its black heart- was a coward. It would not send anything their way, at least not yet. Alfred supposed he should be frightened that he could read the Labyrinth's actions so easily, and he was a little.

But his hand clasped against Haplo's wrist, squeezing gently. Everything at ease, balanced between their hearts. And he remembered- the wave corrects itself.

"Haplo," he whispered, touching the other's cheek. "We should probably leave."

The Patryn roused himself quickly enough, eyes blinking up at the older Sartan. A smile stretched his lips, looking genuinely…happy. At ease. Alfred had the sudden urge to embrace him.

Haplo said nothing- words can only help so much. He clasped Alfred's hand, connecting themselves, projecting warm colors, like a dark orange and a calming red. Gratitude was still hard to express, but it was a real emotion all the same.

Haplo looked around Alfred's shoulder, still smiling, an eyebrow arched questioningly. Alfred felt a wet nose prod his hand, not surprised at all. He patted the animal's head.

It would still be a while before Haplo would be whole. All in time.

"Dog," Haplo called laughingly, scratching behind the black canine's ear. "Where did you come from?"


End file.
